


In Medias Res

by redscudery



Series: Scudery's Saturday Night Fic Fest [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom John, M/M, Post-Coital Cuddling, Scudery's Saturday Night Fic Fest, Top Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 13:48:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redscudery/pseuds/redscudery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A very smutty fill for the Saturday Night Fic Fest. Thanks to anon for a great prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Medias Res

“Ow!”

“John, do please try and keep your observations complimentary.”

“I will, Sherlock, when you keep your teeth to yourself. Are you part cat?”

“Yes. And you like that. Don’t even tell me you don’t. Mmm..”

“Oh!” John gasps as Sherlock bites the nape of his neck, firmly and mercilessly, pushing his cock back inside John at the same time. He does like it, likes it a lot, but he didn’t know it until Sherlock told him. 

This is what it’s like making love to Sherlock Holmes. Sharp teeth, hard cock, and then the gentlest hands in the world stroking him. Orders and sudden clinical observations, some more evocative than any compliment John has ever received. Love. 

Sherlock has slowed, now, sucking John’s neck rather than biting, and his thrusts have taken on that dreamy quality that means he’s intensely present in the moment, feeling every small sensation. He’ll keep doing this until John lets go, loses himself in the act as well and the world narrows to just in, out, stroke, one body instead of two, until the pleasure just spills over into orgasm. Or, alternately, until John begs Sherlock to speed up and make him come. 

The latter is what John picks today. Sherlock’s teeth have caught a nerve that goes straight to his cock, and the slow movements of Sherlock’s hand on him are stoking that fire too gently. 

“Please. Please take me harder.”

“Not yet.” Sherlock doesn’t even stop biting him, just rumbles it, almost subvocal, into John’s neck. 

“Harder!” John insists, pushing his arse back onto Sherlock and then thrusting his cock forward into Sherlock’s hand.

“Greedy, greedy. Tell me I was right.” He is already pushing a little harder, but John wants more. 

“You.. You were right. Oh!” Sherlock takes his mouth from John’s neck and his hand from John’s cock and John is bereft for a moment. When Sherlock’s hand returns, slick with spit, it’s only a moment before John blazes out of control, coming and coming and coming, which throws Sherlock off the edge as well; he groans his pleasure against John’s damp neck, and they collapse on the bed. John is still cradled in Sherlock’s arms, and they hold each other until the world stops spinning.


End file.
